


Succession

by viascos



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viascos/pseuds/viascos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Master and padawan leave Tatooine with a tad more cargo than originally expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Succession

**Author's Note:**

> This was part of a larger au that I haven't touched for about a year, but since Star Wars has been revived I thought I'd go ahead and share.

Levi’s lip curls in disgust as another wave of stench hits him like a freight ship. The smell blankets the entire street, and just the fact that he can’t discern exactly what it is has his skin crawling. Of all the vile places to make a pit stop, Mos Eisley and its barely breathable air takes the prize. 

Not to mention the heat. It’s suffocating; pressing in from every direction, and with the exception of the ragged, greying tents that line the marketplace, there’s no escaping the midday suns blazing high in the sky. Levi can already feel the back of his neck getting scorched. 

He sneaks a glance at Erwin, who is standing a few yards away, deep in conversation with a massive Besalisk merchant and doesn’t seem to be breaking a sweat at all. In fact, he looks perfectly comfortable in his heavy robes, and sunlight is shining off his hair and teeth. The merchant seems vaguely dazzled. Surely, Coruscant’s golden boy is about to snag them a good deal on the engine parts they need without a shred of Force-imbued influence. Levi’s scowl deepens. They wouldn’t be in this situation if Erwin had heeded his advice about a tune-up before their departure from the Jedi capital. Levi knows their ship better than the back of his own hand, but Erwin had waved him off, their journey to Rori would be a short one. It wasn’t like him to be flippant, and now Levi is sure Erwin was well aware of their imminent engine troubles, and that this is all part of one of his “learning opportunities.” Erwin calls it character building. Levi calls it sadism.

Levi’s attention wanders, letting Erwin’s haggling fade into the background noise of the bustling street behind them. The Besalisk’s shop is one with a tent shadowing the entrance, and beyond it, Levi can make out piles upon piles of machine parts heaped up against the whitewashed inner walls. What they need is in there, it’s only a matter of settling on a price, which Erwin seems to have under control. Levi does a sluggish half-turn, grimacing at his robes sticking to his back, and the tent cloth near his leg flutters, then goes taut, pulled down by something on the other side. Curious, he looks down and finds himself being stared at by one very round, very brilliant green eye peeking through a slash in the canvas.

Maybe it’s the heat getting to him, but he just tilts his head and stares back. He’s heard of men going mad with desert sickness on Tatooine, and there’s a definite buzzing in his ears. Perhaps he should head back to the ship…

A sudden loud noise jerks Levi back to his senses and his hand goes automatically to one of the two lightsabers hanging at his belt, but it’s only the merchant’s throaty laughter. Erwin looks infuriatingly proud of himself, smiling amiably as the Besalisk lifts one of its four arms to give him a rowdy clap on the shoulder that would probably topple any other man. It seems they have come to an agreement, and none too soon. Levi doesn’t want to spend another minute on this godforsaken planet. 

The merchant shouts over its shoulder in a rough language that Levi can’t understand, and the eye disappears, only to reappear attached to a small human child with a dark shock of hair and sun-browned skin shuffling from his hiding spot behind the tent flap to the merchant’s side. He blinks at Levi once more before responding in the same unknown tongue. It sounds guttural and strange coming from a human throat. After money changes hands, the little slave disappears into the depths of the shop with Erwin’s written list of parts to fetch, and Erwin makes his way over to the sweltering patch of sand that Levi still hasn’t moved from. 

His hand is tugging gently at Levi’s braid before Levi can dodge it. “We’ll be back in the air in no time.”

“Easy for you to say,” Levi grumbles. “I’m the one who has to install all this second-hand junk.”

Erwin laughs. “That’s because you’re the best at it.” He moves to grip the back of Levi’s sweat-slicked neck, and immediately looks regretful. Then a bit concerned. “Are you feeling all right?” 

Levi fixes him with a dark look. “Never better.” Erwin ignores the retort, already reaching into his robe and drawing out a flask of water. He presses it into Levi’s hand with a meaningful cock of his eyebrow before turning back to the shop, just as the boy comes barreling outside, tripping and sending his armful of couplers and converters flying into the sand. 

Before either Erwin or Levi can react, the Besalisk drags the boy to his feet by the scruff of his collar and cuffs him hard on the head, knocking him back against the tent pole. Another bark of laughter masks the boy’s pained noise and the creature bows deeply to scoop the parts from the ground and hand them to Erwin, whose smile doesn’t waver, but Levi’s well-trained eyes catch the muscle jumping in his cheek. 

“My apologies, sirs,” the Besalisk drawls, voice dripping with faux sincerity. “There’s no brain in that one’s skull.”

“No harm done,” Erwin says thinly, sorting through the parts one by one and dropping them into a burlap sack at his side. 

“Is everything to your satisfaction?”

Erwin pauses, consulting his list once more. “The hyperdrive capacitor connector?” He addresses the boy directly, and not unkindly, but the child pales.

The Besalisk makes a needlessly furious noise of exasperation. “Are you trying to cheat the good man, you dimwit? Do you want to be flayed alive?”

It raises an arm to hit the boy again before he can escape back into the shop to find the missing purchase, and Levi has a fleeting vision of his lightsaber blade separating it at the shoulder.

To his surprise, the boy doesn’t flinch away. He plants his little feet, balls his fists and shouts something urgent in their ugly language, staring his master down so intensely that Levi thinks his eyes might pop out of his head. The strike halts in mid-swing, and the Besalisk blinks unfocused eyes. It lets its arm fall to its side, and shakes its head to clear its vision. It pivots to face Erwin again, looking confused, as if seeing him for the first time. 

Levi turns too, slowly, to make sure Erwin saw what he just did. 

Sure enough, Erwin’s eyes are locked on the child, the parts in his hands forgotten. Not Levi’s imagination then.

The Besalisk’s expression clears somewhat, and it dips its head. “I’ll get that for you right away.”

Levi watches it trod into the depths of building in disbelief. He knows what he saw, but he needs to hear Erwin say it. 

“Master,” he says slowly. “What was that?”

“Incredible,” Erwin breathes. The boy shuffles from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable under Erwin’s gaze.

“Master.” Annoyed this time. 

Erwin’s robes swish and suddenly he’s dragging Levi along by the elbow, away from the tent. They halt far enough to speak out of earshot, but stay visible. Levi looks back to see the boy rub at his head and kick a pile of sand, watching them.

“Master,” Levi repeats for the third time. Erwin’s eyes are alight with excitement, an expression Levi has learned to dread. 

“Did you feel it?” Erwin asks.

“He used the Force.”

“More like exploded with it.”

“But how is that even possible? He’s just a kid. I doubt he even knows what a Jedi is.” 

Erwin looks as stumped as Levi feels, but his jaw is set, he’s clearly thinking at a parsec a minute. “I don’t know.” He goes silent for a moment, and then his head snaps up. “We need to talk to him. See what he’s capable of. Away from here.” By the looks of it, Erwin doesn’t mean pulling him aside for a quick chat.

Levi blinks. “Don’t tell me you’re suggesting that we buy his freedom.”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

“That’s insane. We came here for engine parts, Erwin.” 

“That child is brimming with power. It could be disastrous if left unchecked.” 

“But – “

“Imagine if anyone outside the Order gets their hands on that power, Levi. He clearly has no idea what he’s doing; it’s instinctive. I’ve never seen anything like it. It takes years to master that skill and he just executed it perfectly, with no training. If he was trained – “ 

“You want to take him back to the Academy? The council won’t take kindly to a child taken in outside of the selection process, you know.” Levi remembers well. 

There’s a dangerous twinkle in Erwin’s eyes. “No,” he smiles. “Not back to the Academy. At least not yet.”

Levi inhales. “You don’t mean…”

“You’re more than ready, Levi. In fact, you have been for a long time.” Erwin pauses. “I can’t make you do anything, of course, but a chance like this probably won’t show itself again. A padawan with a skill level proportional to your own.”

Heat that has nothing to do with the suns flushes up the back of Levi’s neck.

“I – “

Erwin grins. “There’s no better man for the job.”

Levi glares at him, but he can’t deny that his interest is also piqued. There isn’t time to think about details, about who this boy is, about teaching, about dealing with a child, about anything, Erwin is watching him with expectant eyes. Levi grits his teeth. “Fine. If that oaf even agrees to let him go.”

Erwin’s grin widens and he’s already spinning on his heel. “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.”

The Besalisk is at the front of the shop, holding the connector and watching them in mild confusion as they make their way back to him. The boy is nowhere to be seen. 

Erwin ignores the connecter when the Besalisk offers it, fixing the creature with a stare masked with another congenial smile. “Another business opportunity has arisen,” he says. “I have a question for you.” 

The Besalisk’s eyes light up with greedy interest. “Anything, sir.”

Erwin doesn’t hesitate. “That slave from earlier. How old is he?”

The merchant is taken aback. “Seven of your human years. Why do you ask?”

“Parents?”

“Dead. Gone. Got dumped on me as payment for his mother’s debts.”

Erwin nods. “Those debts, what were they?”

“A thousand druggats, as if he’s worth that much,” the Besalisk spits bitterly. “Lent it to her to feed that little runt mostly, before she got herself killed.”

Erwin’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t ask the merchant to elaborate. “I can double that price, for the boy.”

Levi’s eyebrows shoot up. It isn’t that he doesn’t have the means, but Erwin isn’t one to use payment to get his way, unless completely necessary. He really intends to do this. The merchant looks shocked as well.

“Why would you want him? The child is useless, a simpleton – “ It stops abruptly, realizing what it’s arguing against, and a grin to rival Erwin’s spreads across its pockmarked face. “Deal. Whatever your reasons.”

Levi can’t tell if Erwin is subtly persuading, or if the Besalisk is just that dense. Whatever the case, Erwin draws the purse of money from his belt again, and the Besalisk summons the slave with another shout. He appears still nursing the growing bruise on the side of his face, looking a bit surprised, and then nervous that the two men are still there. 

Erwin gives Levi a meaningful nod without missing a beat. “Help him with his things.”

Suddenly Levi wonders if it’s too late to change his mind. This is happening far too quickly. The kid stares up at him blankly, one hand clenched in a handful of his dark hair. His face and arms are coated with an even layer of sand and grime, and Levi shudders involuntarily. 

“Um.”

Huge green eyes blink slowly, and Levi realizes he hasn’t heard the child speak the Basic tongue once.

“Do you understand me?”

He gets a nod, and a nervous glance at the Besalisk as if the child is unsure he’s allowed to be speaking to Levi. The merchant gives a dismissive wave as it tucks the money away. 

“What’s your name?” Levi tries. 

“Eren.”

“I’m Levi. And that’s Erwin. Can you show me to your room?”

Eren looks bewildered, but he nods and points the way. Levi hears a poorly disguised laugh-cough from Erwin as he follows the boy into the shop, and refuses to give his master the satisfaction of turning around. 

It’s more of a hole in the wall than a room, a tiny space cut into the carved building with a few blankets and a second pair of shoes. On a nail drilled into the stone hang a knitted red scarf and a battered metal key strung up on a thin leather twine. Levi isn’t even small enough to duck into the space.

Eren gestures at it and looks up at Levi again, waiting for an explanation. 

“How would you like to leave this place?” Levi asks, unsure of what else to say. “Master Erwin wants to take you with us, to train with us. Well…with me.”

“Train?”

Levi shakes his head, and backtracks. Erwin would be better at this. “Back then, when your master tried to hit you. What did you say?”

Eren’s teeth suddenly clench and he looks scared, as if caught red-handed. “Nothing! I just told him not to and he changed his mind. It just happens sometimes, I didn’t try to, I swear. He always forgets about it, so don’t tell him. Please…”

There are tears welling up. Shit. 

“I won’t,” Levi promises quickly, and Eren lets out a shuddery breath of relief. “I was just making sure.”

“Making sure of what?”

“Of what you were doing. I can do it too, and so can Master Erwin. It’s a… special talent. And we want to teach you how to use it, away from here.” He’ll let Erwin give the full overview on the concept of the Force to the seven-year-old once they’re off planet and once Eren isn’t sniffling back tears. “If you want to come with us,” he adds.

Eren chews on his lip for a second, staring somewhere around Levi’s knees. He rubs the heel of his hand across his eyes before making a little fist. 

“You’ll take me with you?”

“Yes.”

“Away from here?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

Levi rubs at the sunburn on the back of his neck. “For… for the foreseeable future.” Eren looks confused. “I mean, for a long time. Forever.”

“I won’t have to come back?”

Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes at a child. “Correct.”

“Never?”

A sigh. “Yes.”

Eren turns and throws the shoes, scarf and key onto his blanket and folds them up inside, and lifts the bundle with his little arms. He hugs it tightly to his chest. 

“Okay.”

-

The return trek to the outskirts of Mos Eisley where they landed the ship is a short one. Eren doesn’t look back once. 

During the time it takes for Levi to install the engine parts while the suns finally dip lower in the sky, Erwin shows Eren his unsheathed lightsaber, at which the boy’s dirty face cracks into a shy – but impossibly bright - smile. After that, the questions begin, and there are millions of them. Erwin simply promises to answer them all once they’re up in the air and on their way, shooting Levi a gracious nod. Levi rolls his eyes. 

The sky is deep blue and the lights of the spaceport city are flickering on by the time Levi closes the hatch, now coated with equal parts sweat and grease and sand. They board the ship as three, and Levi makes a beeline for his quarters. He’s halfway through scrubbing the gunk from his forearms before he realizes his little shadow. Eren lurks in the entry hatch, looking lost and sleepy. 

Levi sighs, and grabs a clean towel. He refills the water basin, unsure of what else to do, so he decides to do what he does best. Eren yawns hugely as Levi takes the towel to his face, scrubbing away the dirt and grime. The ragged tunic Eren is wearing is just as filthy, so Levi gestures for Eren to lift his arms, and tugs it off. He’ll toss it in the incinerator the first chance he gets. 

The clean shirt he yanks over Eren’s messy little head is enormous for him and Levi has to roll the sleeves five times before the boy’s fingers can even peek out of them, but Eren doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems to be falling asleep on his feet, and leans heavily against Levi’s leg when Levi straightens up. 

“Oi, don’t fall asleep.” It’s too late. After a brief hesitation, Levi scoops him up and carries him effortlessly to the hatch across from his own. It’s a small, unused space, but it’s larger than Eren’s old ‘room,’ and more importantly, cleaner. The boy is snoring by the time he hits the bed. 

Levi disentangles himself from Eren’s limbs and steps backwards through the hatch, not expecting to collide with something broad and sturdy. There’s the familiar tug at his braid and Levi sighs, crossing his arms and turning to face Erwin. 

“He’ll have plenty of questions in the morning. I guess it won’t hurt to wait a few hours for takeoff.”

Erwin nods and moves his hand to Levi’s shoulder. “Thanks. I know you hate this.”

Levi reddens. “Just the planet…” Erwin chuckles, shifts his gaze to the little form buried under crisp white sheets.

“You’re pretty good at this,” he observes. “Imagine that.”

“Shut up. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

“Neither did I, and look how you turned out.” 

It sounds like it should be a joke, but Levi can’t read Erwin’s face and the way he’s looking at Levi is making him itch. It’s too steady, too serious. There’s too much faith in his expression. Levi pushes past him.

“Get some sleep, old man.”

“Levi.”

He looks back once more before slipping into his room.

“You’ll succeed at this. As you do everything else.”

Something about his tone makes Levi believe it.


End file.
